


i love you like an alcoholic

by vriskakin



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Drinking, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, F/F, Fights, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Overdosing, POV Terezi Pyrope, Partying, Refrenced Drug dealing, Rehabilitation, This fic is stressful :'), Title from a song by The Taxpayers of the same name, vriskas fucked tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 19:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18900814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vriskakin/pseuds/vriskakin
Summary: That was when you swore off parties for the both of you. You loved Vriska. You couldn't let her do that to herself again. Besides, drinking with other people was never really fun for you anyway.You didn't know she was sneaking off to buy drugs until two weeks ago when you followed her out of the house after your suspicion got the best of you. She had been leaving the house late for weeks, and knowing Vriska, you knew she wasn't going somewhere good. So, you followed her. You followed her all the way behind a McDonalds, to a shady guy in black jeans.Now there she was, knocked out on cocaine in your arms, unconscious.





	i love you like an alcoholic

You were at a party with your girlfriend, Vriska, that night. Your sister had told you that she and her boyfriend were going, so you decide to tag along. Why? You’re not sure. You knew Vriska was always a mess at parties, maybe that time you thought it would be different. Somehow you thought that she wouldn't fuck up. But then there you were, sitting on the couch with a drink in your hand, when Vriska's friend John runs up to you, in a sober panic, which was strange since he had been a mess maybe 30 minutes earlier.  
“Terezi? Is Vriska with you? I haven't seen her in a while,” he said in a calmed voice, but it was obvious he was trying to coat his worry.  
Your blood ran cold. John was supposed to watch Vriska when you weren't with her. You immediately stood straight up and grabbed your things, then you started running through people. When you couldn't find Vriska at a party, it was usually never a good sign. You ran through this house you didn't recognize, bursting into different rooms, each with people in them, but not Vriska.  
Then you checked the garage.  
You burst through the door, and there she was. Slumped up against the concrete wall, surrounded by bottles of different kinds of alcohol. A long string of blood ran from her nose, fresh and still dripping down her lips and off her chin. John then showed up behind you, his phone in hand and 911 on speed dial.  
“Shit!” you yelled while running up to her. “I told you to not take your eyes off of her!”  
You grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. She didn't move, her eyes rolled back into her head. She wasn't dead, her heart was beating, but somehow you think a void heartbeat would have been less scary than the drum roll it actually was. 

This was not the first time Vriska had overdosed. Last year, Vriska had ended up in the hospital from passing out after downing a bottle of Advil as a dare while insanely drunk. You gave her benefit of the doubt that time, hell, it was a dare! 

It wasn't a dare when she slumped off of Cronus's couch with pills in her mouth and a bottle of Absolut in her hand. 

That was when you swore off parties for the both of you. You loved Vriska. You couldn't let her do that to herself again. Besides, drinking with other people was never really fun for you anyway.

You didn't know she was sneaking off to buy drugs until two weeks ago when you followed her out of the house after your suspicion got the best of you. She had been leaving the house late for weeks, and knowing Vriska, you knew she wasn't going somewhere good. So, you followed her. You followed her all the way behind a McDonalds, to a shady guy in black jeans.  
Now there she was, knocked out on cocaine in your arms, unconscious. You didn't know she was doing the hard shit. You always thought it was just weed and painkillers. Fuck, why didn't you ask her? This could have been avoided.  
You also didn't expect not being able to remember when the ambulance showed up. One minute you were holding her, the next you were slamming yourself into your car with John beside you. Thank god you were sober, you don't know what you would have done if you weren't able to get to the hospital. 

You slept in that waiting room, something in you told you to stay. What if something happened? What if you weren't there? So, you stayed. It was almost noon the next day when you could see her.  
You walked into her room, and there she was, but now she was awake. Her eyes were dark and sunken in, matching her cheeks. Her hair is matted into a ponytail, and she was sitting up and looking at you. You can't help but cling yourself to her almost as soon as you see her. You try to squeeze her, but she groans in pain when you do.  
“Sorry,” you said softly as you sat down in the chair beside her bed. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments as you stared at the floor with your head in your hands. Vriska is the one who breaks the silence.  
“I’m sorry,” is the only thing she can manage to get out. You look up and she has a hand over her face, trying to cover up that she had started crying. The worry that had been coursing through your veins had suddenly turned to anger.  
“Why, Vriska? Why the fuck do you keep doing this to yourself?” is all you can think to ask. She responds with a harder sob, and it's almost like she can’t look at you. It fuels your fire.  
“Why are you crying now? You didn’t cry the first or the second time! Why the fuck does it matter now? You promised me you would stop this shit, and here we are. You can’t keep fucking doing this because I can’t fucking deal with it all the time. I can’t just watch you kill yourself. You try this shit like I won’t leave you.”  
Vriska is bawling now. She's crying like you’ve never had this conversation before. You give her a moment, but something in the back of your head says you shouldn't have. Something is telling you to get the hell out of there, but you stay.  
“I just want to know why, Vriska.”  
“Because I don’t know where to fucking go!” she yells. “I have no one to fucking talk to! It feels like I have to deal with all of this shit alone and I fucking hate it, okay? So I drown myself in this shit and hope everything turns out alright. Is that a good enough fucking answer for you?”  
She immediately puts her head back into her hands and goes back to her fit, and that urge to get the hell out of there takes you. So without giving her enough time to get another word out, you leave. 

You get a voicemail from her the next morning. She tried to call you at around 6 am, but you haven’t woken up that early since middle school.  
“Hey. So um… shit, I don’t want to make this long. So I ended up checking myself into that rehab center last night. I have nowhere else to turn to anymore, and this feels like the only option I’ve got left. I’m just letting you know all of this before they make me turn in my phone so I don’t just like… fall of the face of the earth. I get if you don’t want to see me right now, but please come visit me sometime. I don’t know if I can handle this place without being able to see you. I love you, Terezi.”

You immediately look up visitation hours. 

You sat in the visitation area a couple days after that. The need to see her had been eating away at you, and you gave in. Fuck, you never realized how much you needed her. It felt like you waited hours there for her, even if it was only a few minutes. God, you hated this place. And then she finally shows up.  
She sees you and slowly makes her way over to the table you were at. She takes a seat next to you and the two of you turn to each other. You sit in silence for a moment until you finally decide what to say.  
“I’m sorry,” you say, but before you can finish your sentence Vriska has pulled you into a hug. She rests her head in the side of your neck and she just holds you. As you sit there, you can feel her start to shake. You pull away from her, and now you can the see thick streams of tears carving her cheeks. You brush a piece of hair out of her face and behind her ear, and you sweep in and kiss her. She wipes her face off as she pulls away from you, and she laughs.  
“You know, I think I'm the one who should apologize.”  
You laugh, not too sure how to respond. You're not sure if she knows where to start either.  
“I’m sorry for what I put you through. I was too caught up in what I wanted, I guess. I don’t really have an excuse, all I can really say is I’m sorry,” she wipes her eyes as she takes your hand.  
You hold her hand, and slump your head on her shoulder. Maybe you could make this work. 

The two of you kept in touch as best as you could. When you weren't at work, you were either sleeping or with Vriska. It seemed like she always had a new story to tell. For those six months Vriska was in rehab, it almost felt like you talked more than you had when you lived together, even if you were only allowed to see her 3 hours out of every day. By the end of the first month, you knew almost everything about all the patients in the facility. You weren’t sure how Vriska knew all of that, but it always gave you something to talk about when you saw her.  
She apologized every time you saw her. She kept trying to explain herself, trying to reach for an excuse that she didn’t have. The both of you knew the truth of why she did it, but she didn’t want to believe it herself. Your gut said to stay, but your head said the opposite. You knew she needed you. You wanted to help her get better.  
But you feared you were putting too much trust in her.  
You wanted to believe that she was truly getting better. You wanted to believe she would never do something like that again.  
But something deep down in you knew this wouldn’t be the last time.  
This would happen again. Both of you knew it, neither of you wanted to accept it. This wouldn’t be the last breakdown, this wouldn’t be the last hospital visit, this wouldn’t be the last lie. 

You started to become busier. Seeing Vriska every day turned into seeing Vriska maybe twice a week. Things started getting in the way, those things being yourself. You stopped wanting to get out of bed to see her at 10am. You started to realize there was no point in going to see her. She was just going to come up with another bullshit excuse and apology to try and convince you that she was really getting better. You knew she wasn’t. The bags under her eyes got darker every time you saw her. She became frailer by the day. You still felt bad. You hated to see her like that.  
But you couldn’t fucking stand to have her lie to you.  
She was fucking playing with you. Playing with your heart that she wouldn’t fucking lie to you. She said that before she took fucking Adderall in your bathroom. Before she got all fucked up at Cronus’s house. Before she went and did fucking crack in the garage of somebody's house you didn’t even fucking know. 

You didn’t come to pick her up on her last day.  
You sent a text to John, saying you were busy. You didn’t want to see her anymore. 

You didn’t expect her to show up to your doorstep.  
It was strange to see her in jeans and her regular flannel after seeing her in stringless sweatshirts and sweatpants for almost three months. She looked almost unnatural.  
She didn’t say anything when she opened the door, only waved and smiled half-heartedly. You responded by opening the door for her, wordlessly inviting her inside.  
She sat on your couch, and the room seemed to get darker. It may have been midday, but the thick tension in the room seemed to suck all the light out. You grabbed her a cup of coffee and the two of you sat across from each other, not too sure where to start.  
“I’m sorry, Terezi,” She starts. She always started like that. You were so fucking sick of it.  
“Don’t. Please don’t,” you cut her off. You didn’t want to hear her stupid fucking apology today.  
“Jesus, Terezi, what has gotten into you? It’s like I don’t know you anymore!” She started to get angry. You knew she would catch on to what you were doing, and this is where it would all come crashing down. You both knew it.  
“You don't know me? Vriska, you just got out of a fucking rehab! If anything, I don’t know you!” you were both standing now, maybe a foot of space between you. Vriska took a step closer every time she spoke.  
“Well, I’m fucking sorry! At least I recognize my fucking problems and deal with them!”  
“The only reason you went to rehab is because of fucking me! Without me, you would be in a back alley somewhere on fucking dead!” This was going to go on forever if you didn’t end it soon.  
“You’re a selfish bitch, you know that? I don’t do everything because your sorry ass tells me to!”  
“Get out of my house,” you say under your breath, looking deep into your coffee cup.  
“What did you say?” she replied. You weren’t sure if she asked because she couldn’t believe what you said or because you truly couldn’t hear you.  
“Get the fuck out of my house!” you screamed it this time.  
She gave you one last angered glare and slammed the door behind her.  
You set your coffee on the table and sat down, only to put your head in your hands and start crying.  
You weren't sure of the last time you cried like this. A gross, unleashed cry of anger and sadness. Painful and full of pure rage. A cry you see in movies that are made of pure exaggeration that only things like death can cause. 

God, were you glad she was gone.


End file.
